Night Watch / Tom Scanlon
Not a fabulous year for Seattle music? Objection!

	BRIAN TAMBORELLO Death Cab for Cutie are, from left to right, Nick Harmer, Ben Gibbard, Jason McGerr, Chris Walla.
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JC: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury — and what a fine, handsome jury we have, beautiful people — I'm going to defend what some are calling irrational, I'm going to defend what some are calling unreasonable, I'm going to defend what some are calling irascible, I'm going to defend ... um, excuse me, Your Honor, what am I going to defend again?

JR: The claim that 2003 is the best year ever for Seattle music.

JC: Exactly! Thank you, Your Honor, you're looking absolutely handsome yourself. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I'd like to start out by saying four words: Death Cab for Cutie.

BO: Objection! He's spinning!

JR: Overruled.

JC: You're damned right I'm spinning — I'm spinning "Transatlanticism"! This is the finest piece of plastic these four fine, upstanding, handsome young men from Seattle have ever put out, and it's not like up till now they were slacking — they were attacking. Yes, that's right, Death Cab for Cutie, exhibit 1.

JR: Cross-examine?

BO: I do have a question: Mr. Death Crab, or whatever your name is, if you're so hot, how come you're on this little teeny tiny Barsuk label?

JC: Objection! They're keeping it local! They're keeping it real!

BO: They're keeping it real, all right — real boring!

JC: Fool check. Why, I bet you've never heard of the Fire Theft.

BO: Not only have I heard of it, I'm insured against it.

JC: Ladies and gentleman, I submit to you that anyone who is not down with the Fire Theft, this brilliant post-Sunny Day Real Estate project led by the truly splendid singer Jeremy Enigk, anyone who is not down with this does not know emo, and has got to go!

BO: What the hell did you just call me?

JR: Easy, sir. He said "emo."

BO: Well that figures. And that's exactly the problem with Seattle music, 2003. You can spin it all you want, but it's still that sissy stuff. Liberal rock, I call it.

JC: Objection and rejection! Just because it's sensitive and poetic, doesn't make it weak. And if you want some hard-core stuff, I got plenty of that for you. I submit the Rotten Apples, an all-girl punk crew that slams like a bank vault on Friday at 5 o'clock. I've got the Blood Brothers, taking scream-o hardcore straight out of the 206 to area codes all across this fine country. I've got the amazing Damien Jurado, Pretty Girls Make Graves and Maktub spreading the good word across the U.S. of A. I've got Modest Mouse poised to make noise, and I've got up-and-comers like Minus the Bear, the Long Winters and sax wiz Skerik ready to bust out like a fat man in tight pants.

BO: Give me a break. I've got two words for you: Nirvana.

JC: Objection! That's one word!

BO: Don't split hairs with me, I'm no bean counter. But I do know this: My man Kurt Cobain would stomp your sissy-rockers like the U.S. Marines on the Taliban. Alice in Chains, Soundgarden — none of these present-day posers can touch 'em! All your bands' record sales added up together wouldn't get you a platinum blonde, let alone a platinum record.

JC: Thank you for bringing up that point, I thank you sincerely. What this is all about isn't sales, isn't about starting some quasi-movement, isn't about making money for MTV and the big record companies ... my people are about art, making beautiful music that flies in the face of the recording industry! IQU ...

BO: Objection! He's making mouse sounds.

JR: Clarification: Eek who?

JC: "Eee-cuu" — but it's spelled IQU. Anyway, IQU, Dead Science, FCS North, these artists — that's right, I said "artists" —

BO: Probably French.

JR: Stay on task and don't make me use this gavel, counsel.

JC: As I was saying before I was so rudely disrespected, these Seattle musical "artists" are dropping some jazz-rock knowledge it's going to take a team of archaeologists years to figure out. I've got Plan B representing electro-pop, the Sharpshooters dropping funk bombs on a serious comeback album ... and speaking of comebacks, how about our man from Garfield High, Cherrywine — you may remember him as Butterfly from Digable Planets, coming all the way back from Brooklyn for a solo album that beat the ...

JR: Careful.

JC: ... that beat the ... pants off just about any of these faker hip-hoppers out on the national scene.

BO: I knew you'd try to play the hip-hop card! Seattle's got about as much hip-hop grip as Jim McDermott has Republican voters. The Jet City is all about the grunge, always was and always is. Spin it anyway you want it: Grunge is dead, and so is Seattle music. I rest my case.

JR: Rebuttal?

JC: Moment of quiet, your honor. Is that sound off in the distant horizon a drum roll? A guitar? A horn? ... no, it's an ambulance — I'm out!

Tom Scanlon: tscanlon@seattletimes.com

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